


New Reality

by solohux



Series: Tumblr Prompts & Drabbles [8]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solohux/pseuds/solohux
Summary: As retribution for Starkiller's destruction, Snoke puts Hux through some mental punishment.





	

**Author's Note:**

> from a prompt I got from an anonymous person on tumblr who wanted to see Hux suffer when Snoke puts him through some mental torture.
> 
>  
> 
> **tw for abuse & referenced past child abuse**

It’s completely dark when Hux wakes up.

He’s lying on his side on the ground, curled in on himself as though trying to shield himself from something, but he can’t remember what. His head, _his mind,_ hurts, throbbing from an invisible hammer pounding against the inside of his skull. He swallows hard as he pushes himself up off the ground and onto his knees, doubting whether there’s enough strength in his legs to help him stand.

“Get _up,_ boy.”

The deep, familiar voice sends a shiver across Hux’s skin, sending his mind in to a flurry, a mix of panic and fear. He stands bolt upright, finding the darkness disappearing from around him, his environment moulding into the dull scene of Brendol Hux’s office. The man himself stands in front of Hux, leering down at him, his cold stare burrowing through Hux’s body and freezing his innards.

 _This can’t be real,_ Hux thinks. His father has been dead for years. He remembers feeling like a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders the day he received the news that Brendol Hux had fallen asleep one night and couldn’t be awoken by his servants the next morning. His death quiet and peaceful, unlike the life he’d lived.

But now, Hux feels like the weight is back on his shoulders, threatening to crush him.

“Explain yourself,” Brendol spits, and Hux flinches, shoulders twitching.

He feels 11 years old again, sent to his father’s office at the Academy for an underperformance on an exam. No Hux should ever get _less_ than one-hundred percent on every test, Brendol had taught him, making him repeat the phrase in _lines_ as punishment until little Hux could no longer feel his fingers grasping the pen, numb from cold and exhaustion.

“Sir?” Hux doesn’t look his father in the eye. He stares past him, _through_ him, knowing he has to _earn_ the right to look the Commandant, so Hux stands ridged, same height as his father, but feels like he’s three inches tall.

“ _Starkiller,”_ Brendol replies. “A catastrophic failure. A monumental oversight on your behalf.” He leans in, though Hux’s gaze doesn’t falter. “I’ll ask again, boy. Explain yourself. _Why?”_

Hux swallows hard.

“I calculated everything correctly, sir. I believed the shields to be impenetrable,” Hux says, trying to keep the shakiness of his tone to an unnoticeable minimum. “Nothing should’ve gotten through, but my Captain was threatened and forced to lower the shields—”

Hux takes a sharp intake of breath through his gritted teeth when his father’s calloused hand grabs hold of the front of his uniform, pulling them nose-to-nose.

“ _Pathetic,”_ Brendol snarls. “Do you not realise that _this_ is the legacy you’ll leave? I gift my great name to you and _this_ is how you repay me? With my reputation in ruins, with the First Order in tatters? All because of _you_ , boy?”

Hux takes hold of Brendol’s wrist with both hands, trying to pry his father’s strong grip off but his efforts are futile.

“You’ll be ridiculed for this. Demoted. Exiled. Executed, perhaps. The time, lives and _money_ that you’ve lost because you couldn’t handle an insignificant group of rebels.”

“I-I tried, sir, I did. There were—er— _other factors_ that played into Starkiller’s destruction, I swear it.”

“Ah,” Brendol’s expression softens for a moment, but mockingly so. “You mean that overbearing, _overemotional_ Kylo Ren who you’ve gotten yourself so attached to?”

Hux doesn’t reply, though he feels his heart sink. He knows it’s likely the case that Kylo tried his hardest against the scavenger and the traitor, what with the massive, bleeding wound on his hip _and_ the unbearable emotion he was likely feeling after the murder of his father. For a moment, Hux allows his mind to wander from whatever place he’s in to Kylo, hoping that his recovery is successfully progressing, that he’s _going to make it._

“I told you, boy,” Brendol’s sharp voice catches Hux’s attention. “Attachments are weakness.”

“Father, please, I—”

“ _Do not call me that,”_ Brendol growls, spitting in Hux’s face. “You are not my son. You’re _nothing,_ Armitage. Weak. Just like your mother.”

Before Hux can utter any sort of response, he feels Brendol’s grip on his uniform loosen, the scene around him dissipating like smoke.

“ _Armitage_.”

Hux spins around at the sound of a soft, female voice calling his name, a whisper, a gentle blow of wind. His jaw hangs open slightly, heart shattering.

“…Mother?”

The woman in front of him has long red hair, bright and rather unkempt, cascading down over her chest. Despite the warmness of her voice, her skin looks _cold;_ pale, unnaturally porcelain, cheekbones high and sharp, like Hux’s own. The short black dress that adorns her thin body looks incredibly worn, its white sleeves, collar and apron stained from years of neglect.

“My sweet boy,” she says, her green eyes sad. “ _What have you done?”_

Hux exhales in a small gasp, sounding more like a sob, his chest clenching.

“I haven’t—I mean, it wasn’t my fault. I thought Starkiller would live for thousands of years—“

“Ssh,” she hushes, taking slow steps towards him until they’re so close that Hux can count the faint freckles on her cheeks, like Kylo does with his. Her eyes brim with tears as she takes in his body, from the redness of his hair to the thinness of his shoulders, all the way down to his scuffed boots. “I remember the day I gave you away. You were so tiny, Armitage. My precious boy.”

Hux flinches at her words, but he doesn’t want to stop listening. Her voice is _soft,_ soothing his anxieties, melting away his tension. He doesn’t remember her, and the amount of guilt he feels for it is _crushing._ She reaches out to cup his cheek, and Hux leans into her touch, feeling a tear slip down his cheek.

His mother’s expression saddens, her pale lips turning into a burdened smile.

“But I couldn’t look after you. I took ill after I’d birthed you, I knew my end was near. But you were a secret. My darling secret that the world now had to know about. I had to tell your father that you were his. But Brendol was so convinced that you weren’t worth it, that I should leave you to die. He said that the only heir he should have will be from his wife. But she was unable to bear children. So he was left with no choice. He ripped you from my hands before I could say goodbye to you. And look at you now. My sweet son.”

“Mother, I’m sorry. I _tried_.”

She sighs.

“I know, Armitage,” she says, tucking a strand of his red hair behind his ear before taking a step away from him. Hux unconsciously reaches out for her, but stays rooted to the spot. But something about his mother’s aura shifts, something that makes Hux frown, something that makes him think that whatever is happening in this bizarre place is beyond the control of any _normal_ being.

“But maybe your father is right about you. Weak willed. Thin. Just as useless. Because Starkiller is dead,” she says, a sternness to her tone that sounds _odd. “_ And now. Your beloved is too.”

Hux feels his pulse spike, the blood in his veins freezing over with agonising fear.

“Wh- _what_?”

But his mother has already disappeared, leaving him alone with the darkness again, but the air around him is colder this time, ominously so. It brushes against Hux’s skin like a ghostly hand, sending a shiver down his spine.

There’s suddenly a glow of light coming from behind him, like a spotlight, shining down on something that someone _clearly_ wants Hux to see. He has a quick glance over his shoulder and sees six figures standing in a row, their backs to him, huddled around something, shielding it from Hux’s view. He turns around slowly, ignoring every fibre of his being that’s telling him to _look away._ With tentative steps, Hux approaches the figures quietly, noting they’re clad entirely in black, helmets on their bowed heads.

Hux frowns as he nears them, seeing that they’re gazing down upon a dark, marble altar, with a body on top—

Hux’s heart stops _dead_ in his chest.

“No…” He says aloud, choked, like the words has been ripped from his throat.

The six figures turn at the sound of his voice, masks staring at him.

The Knights of Ren.

They begin to step aside, parting like clouds only to reveal the deathly pale moon behind them. They file off into the darkness, leaving Hux staring at the body of Kylo Ren.

Hux stands next to the altar, gently shaking his head, unable to tear his gaze away from Kylo’s face, bisected by a cauterised scar. Eyes closed, his knight looks to be in the throes of sleep, but the coldness of the air and the unmoving of his body tells Hux otherwise.

“You can’t be dead,” Hux mutters, unwilling to believe. “You’re on the _Finalizer._ You’re recovering, you’ll be fine… _Ren._ Wake up.”

But Kylo doesn’t move, his dark hair fanned out around him, hands resting atop his stomach, fingers clasped together with his lightsaber in between.

“Ren, please,” Hux begs, outstretching his hand, fingers shaking, too scared to feel the coldness of Kylo’s skin.

“This is your fault, Armitage,” a new, darker voice calls out to him, starling him. It’s familiar voice that sound distant, but Hux feels as though he can’t place it. “If Starkiller had been better protected, if _you_ and _your design_ and _your plans_ had not been such a failure, the Resistance would never have gotten through, young Kylo would not have been wounded and he would not have perished. It’s your fault. You killed him.”

“No!” Hux cries, falling to his knees, burying his tear-stained face into Kylo’s shoulder, his ungloved hands grasping the dark material of Kylo’s robes. “I’ll do better! Give me another chance! Please! Bring him back! I need him—I can’t live without him, he’s— _mine._ And I’m. His. _Please_! I’ll be stronger next time!”

Hux’s sobs echo around the vast emptiness of the room, his body trembling at the thought of him being _so weak_ that he’s inadvertently caused Kylo’s death, the death of the one person whose ability to make Hux feel worth something is unfathomable, the one person who Hux swore he would never fail.

And yet.

The scene around him fades, though Hux doesn’t notice, with his face still pressed into Kylo’s unmoving chest, silently begging a higher power to _give him another chance to prove himself._

“ _Good,_ General,” the dark, familiar voice says. “I believe you’ve seen the error of your ways.”

Hux opens his eyes slowly, finding himself suddenly on his hands and knees, cowering and trembling on the raised platform in the _Finalizer’s_ audience chamber, the holographic form of the Supreme Leader staring down at him. A fresh set of tears flow down from Hux’s cheeks, scrunching his eyes closed, a stupendous headache spreading through his skull.

“I’ll do better,” Hux mutters to himself as though in a trance. “I’ll do better…”

“I know you will, General,” Snoke says with a chuckle. “Or else the punishment will be far worse than what you’ve just experienced. Do _not_ fail me again.”

Hux shivers, the image Kylo lying pale and cold atop the altar still burned on the back of his eyelids.

“Kylo Ren is alive,” Snoke says. “In fact, I believe he’s awake and waiting for you. But heed this, _boy_ , do not utter a word about our little _meeting_ to him, or else he will be the one to suffer. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Hux says, head hanging between his shoulders, body aching, mind tired.

“Good. Leave. Become the man your mother and father would be proud of. Do whatever it takes to make the galaxy safe for your Ren.”

Hux opens his eyes, ablaze with determination, burning like the fires of Starkiller’s destruction.

“ _Yes_ , Supreme Leader.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! My tumblr is [@solohux](http://solohux.tumblr.com/) ❤️


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